The Red Champion
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: She diverted her eyes, keeping them riveted to the ground, and in doing so was only able to see the hem of the woman's skirts as she circled around her. The room was silent, save for the swish of the material and the sound of her own slightly labored breathing. Slowly, nearly agonizingly so, her head lifted, her eyes rising slowly after to meet the deep brown ones of the Queen.
1. Prologue

Rabbits weren't supposed to wear waistcoats and carry watches. That was what got me into trouble. If only I hadn't looked up at the flash of white, perhaps I would have remained ignorant. But I did, and I saw it. And when I saw it, I had to follow it, simply to pacify my curiosity.

Holes are not supposed to be bottomless, especially rabbit holes. But this one was, I soon found as I followed the peculiar rabbit. They were also supposed to be empty, save for the dirt they were made of. Not this one. Tables, chairs, books, even a bed floated past me on my way down.

Flowers are not supposed to talk, but the ones in this place did. They insulted me as I passed, perhaps because I stood out so sharply with this world. Animals are supposed to make sense, not be unidentifiable, but the thing that grabbed me by the back of my tank top was just such an animal. It appeared to be a hybrid of a cat, a bear, and a lion.

Castles are supposed to be beautiful and welcoming, not blood red and located in deserts. This one was blood red and located in just such a location, complete with a moat of blood and severed heads. The soldiers were cards, all in red or black armor, all bearing a number and a heart. Queens were supposed to be quiet and even-tempered, beloved by their subjects. This one was the complete opposite. This couldn't be happening.

I didn't believe in magic. I didn't believe plants could talk. I didn't believe in fairy tales, or the crap concocted by authors for small children, and I sure as hell didn't believe in Wonderland. But it was real, all of it was real. I'm Alessandra, Alice for short, and this is my story.


	2. Follow Me Down

In retrospect, running off after a rabbit she thought she saw wasn't the brightest idea. Especially since it turned out that she had, indeed, seen said rabbit. She didn't know how she felt about that. Did it mean her hallucinations were so strong they were tangible, or did it mean that a waistcoat wearing rabbit actually existed? Not that it mattered now, not since she had fallen down a rather large rabbit hole, where everything seemed to exist outside of gravity, excluding herself.

"This is just wrong," Alessandra said aloud, whacking away a stray tea cup from the set she passed.

Various objects flew by her as she descended, including numerous pieces of furniture. She reached out and snagged a book as she came across yet another bookshelf. '_May as well try to find something interesting to do until I find the end,'_ she thought, opening the rather worn cover of what turned out to be _Les Miserables_. She began reading, only absorbing half the words as she observed her fall. She had only just gotten to the part where Valjean confronted Javier about his identity when she noticed a solid structure looming in front of her. Her gaze snapped up just in time for her to slam into an incredibly hard floor.

"Fuck!" she hissed, sitting up and rubbing her forehead, not entirely certain she didn't have a concussion.

The world tilted again, and she once again found herself falling though this one was most definitely shorter than the other, as in mere seconds she once again collided with the floor, this time striking her back against the cool marble. She lay, dazed and seeing double, on the what she finally perceived to be the true floor of the little room. Once her vision returned to normal she sat up, hissing in pain as she felt her body protest. A small table, the room's only furnishing, caught her eye, and she gingerly approached it, wary of any more surprises. On it was a little bottle with a light blue liquid inside, the words "drink me" written in elegant calligraphy on a small card. A key laid beside it, and it was then she noticed the doors.

They littered the sides of the room, barely leaving any space for walls between them. She glanced at the key and determined that it would be better suited for a dollhouse than any of those doors, and decided to look for a hidden door or panel which it might open, desperately trying to ignore how eerily similar the situation was to that of a children's book. Triumphant in finding the door she needed, she tested the key, relieved when it worked. She started to the table, nearly tripping on something under her foot. It was a small wooden box, and when she opened it found a little cake with the words "eat me" in black icing. She nearly dropped the box, only her quick reflexes keeping the little cake from tumbling to the floor.

"This is too weird. First the rabbit, then the fall, now the bottle and the door? There's no way this is happening." But she knew that it was indeed happening. "Get a fucking grip!" Alessandra hissed to herself. "If, and it's a big if, this is really something out of _Alice in Wonderland_ then you need to drink the bottle, unlock the door, go through, and eat the cake on the other side."

Following her own advice, she did as she said, emerging into a gothic garden. She spun around, her mouth hanging open, never having seen anything like it before. She quickly ate the cake, wishing to explore, and luckily reached a size fairly close to what she had been before her adventure began. She dressed as fast as she could, feeling as though she was being watched. Her outfit, which consisted of a black tank top and jeans, was a tad snug and the hem of the tank top slid up, revealing about an inch of skin on her stomach. Sighing in annoyance, she chose a direction at random and began walking, gazing in wonder at the odd sights and creatures she passed.

As she walked, the feeling of being watched only grew stronger, until finally she stopped dead on the path and looked around, eyes narrowing when the surrounding area yielded no one. She turned to continue on her way, though her nerves were on edge and she found less and less enjoyment in her surroundings.

* * *

Ilosivic Stayne was, for lack of a better word, enslaved to the Red Queen. He protected her, headed her army, trained the soldiers, and was-he shuddered to think it-her lover. Well, on the side actually, though he suspected the Red King wouldn't be around much longer with the way he not-so-secretly coveted the White Queen. He had been riding through the forest under the guise of scouting out turn coats, but in reality he merely needed a break from her majesty the Bloody Begh Hed. That was when he spotted her, the pretty brunette emerging from the small door that led to their world. He had quickly hidden in the trees and watched as she observed their world before eating some upelkutchen and regrowing to her proper size. He'd be lying if he said he looked away to allow her privacy.

It had been so long since he'd seen a proper woman, one not tainted by the Red Queen's terror and murderous rampages, not to mention one of normal proportions. It was almost too good to be true. Thanking the stars, he began to follow her, making sure to always be out of her line of sight. He only grew nervous once, and that was when she turned and looked about as though she knew he was there. Relieved when she carried on, he vowed to pounce at the next available opportunity.

* * *

Alessandra was sure someone was following her. The prickling feeling on the back of her neck wouldn't go away, and she felt as though there were eyes on her at every angle. She felt thankful that she was reaching a crossroads; perhaps her stalker would leave her be if she changed directions. Now the only question was which way to turn.

"To Queast or Snud?" she wondered aloud, glancing down the path in both directions and finding nothing to set one apart from the other. "Well, I suppose there's nothing truly remarkable either way, so…..Queast I suppose."

…

Stayne could hardly believe his luck. The girl had inadvertently begun heading down the road to the Queen's castle, making it ever easier for him to pursue her. He trailed behind her for a good while, past the thorn forest and nearly into the desert surrounding the castle. He waited until she'd turned behind a rather large stone column formation before spurring his horse onward, relishing in the look of fear that flashed across her features as he cut her off.

…

Alessandra knew she hadn't been imagining things! When she heard the hooves pounding the dusty earth behind her she knew that whoever had been following her had finally decided to show themselves, though she wasn't sure their intentions. When the large black horse carrying the large man galloped past her and effectively cut off her path she knew this wouldn't be a fun encounter. The man dismounted, oozing confidence and arrogance, and began to approach her. She looked him up and down, a smirk curving her lips, and she knew without looking that he had most likely taken the look for one of appreciation. That couldn't be further from the truth.

He was a tall man, unusually so, and towered over her, though she wasn't afraid. His hair was black, and from the armor he wore she guessed he was under the service of a king. He wasn't particularly ugly, but she didn't find him handsome either. He strode toward her with purpose, eyeing her up and down, eyes settling on the ample amount of cleavage she had in view, though she blamed the newfound smallness of her clothes for that.

"Can I help you?" she asked sarcastically, giving him a once-over as he'd done to her.

"I think you might," he replied, voice silky and obviously going for seductive.

It took everything she had not to laugh in his face.

He stepped ever closer and it was when his hands attempted to grab her shoulders that she flew into action. She grabbed his right wrist, and with an expert twist and flip sent him flying over her shoulder. He landed on his back, wheezing as the breath was knocked out of him, and shook away his surprise. He grinned. This could be fun, it always was when they struggled,

She sighed as she saw him rising to his feet, rolling her shoulders and adjusting her stance to better defend herself. He came back toward her, but she was ready.

"Impressive," he said. "I've yet to see someone able to take me by surprise. But make no mistake, I _will _have you."

She scoffed.

"Yeah, right. I've seen tougher things than you on my dinner plate!" She made the universal "bring it" motion, causing him to scowl. "Come on, dumbass. Let's see how good your tolerance for pain is."

"Little bitch!" he hissed before lunging, previous attraction dimmed by the slight to his skills and manhood.

Once again she met him easily, knocking away blows and striking her own with lightning speed. He thought, in the haze of pain he found himself in, that he hit her perhaps once. It wasn't long before her foot collided with his middle, sending him crashing to the ground. Before he could recover, a foot slammed down on his crotch, successfully making him scream in a voice several pitches higher and pinning him to the ground. He immediately tried to shove the girl off, but found his arms pinned above his head by her other foot, his wrists ground uncomfortably into the dirt.

"You done now, Hulk?" Alessandra drawled, casually leaning her weight from foot to foot, reveling in the sounds of his pain.

He ignored the odd title, his self-preservation instincts kicking in as he nodded vigorously, tears slipping from his eyes. She smirked, obviously pleased that she had bested him. To his immense relief, she let him up, though not without grinding her foot against his already abused manhood. He sat up instantly, hands clutching at his abused and battered crotch.

"What's your name, asshole?" the girl asked, casually stroking the side of his horse.

"Ilosovic Stayne," he managed. "And yours?"

"Alessandra. Now why were you following me, where am I, and who rules this place?"

"You are in Underland, ruled currently by the Red Queen and King."

She took note of how he evaded her first question, but then, she really didn't need a verbal answer.

"And I presume you work for them?"

"Yes, I am the Knave. I head their army and provide the Queen protection." He watched as she hummed, and an idea began to form. Perhaps this girl could be useful to them, if her hand to hand combat was anything to judge her by. "Speaking of their Majesties, I'm sure they would be delighted to meet such a skilled fighter."

Inwardly, Alessandra rolled her eyes. She knew he was sucking up, most likely trying to manipulate her. But-perhaps if she went along with him she could get some answers. And she would like to meets these monarchs.

"Very well, lead me to them," she said, mounting his horse.

Stayne felt his anger spike at her obvious lack of respect, not to mention the theft of his horse, but kept it controlled, lest he lose her cooperation and receive another painful beating. Instead, he walked to the front of his horse and gripped the reins, leading them further down the path toward Salazen Grum.


	3. The Queen

The castle was far from what Alessansdra had expected. Rather than smooth marble and turrets it was odd curves and hearts, not to mention the blood red embellishments that drew the eye. It was strangely beautiful, in an unorthodox, grotesque sort of way. The surrounding moat, though, that was another story entirely. It was filled with an ominous black liquid, several hundred severed heads floating around. She couldn't help the shudder of repulsion that passed through her, just as Stayne couldn't help but smirk at her squeamishness. She couldn't help it really. Pain and the infliction of it were all well and good, she could even tolerate murder, but to have reminders of it surrounding your home, well, that was taking things a tad too far.

She quelled her slight disgust as they entered the throne room's annex, more concerned with the passing judgemental gazes from the oddly proportioned people they passed. Of course she knew that she might not exactly be dressed to meet royalty, but then again it wasn't as though she'd chosen her outfit for the day planning to plunge down a rabbit hole. The walk to the throne room seemed endless, but when they finally reached the imposing doors she found she wasn't quite as ready as she thought she'd been. She took a deep breath as the doors swung open, holding her head high and plastering a detached expression on her face.

As she entered the throne room she was aware that she had to tread carefully, that is, if the scent of fear and the barely suppressed terror on the faces of the courtiers was anything to go by. A path opened for them as they approached a dias equipped with two thrones where a man and woman sat, obviously the King and Queen. Alessandra found her eyes locked on the woman, not only for her bulbous head, but because she radiated power. It was obvious she was the one with royal blood, the one who wielded the power. She wore a Victorian dress patterned with hearts, the fabric mostly black, tan, and red. Her face was powdered white, eyebrows stenciled on far above the normal brow line with bright blue eyeshadow coating the entire area between her eye and eyebrow. Her lips were painted with a tiny red heart, and her hair, which was blood red, was piled atop her head, also in the shape of a heart.

There was something inexplicably beautiful about her, and Alessandra felt her breath catch. Her eyes flicked over to the King, only to quickly return to the Queen, unimpressed by the man. He was handsome, as was to be expected, but his appearance paled in comparison to the powerful woman seated to his left. His dark hair and ordinary but chiseled features faded into the background, not to mention he dressed in neutral colors in contrast to his wife's bright red.

The room quieted as both monarchs' gazes settled on her. She dropped her head immediately, deferring the control of the situation to them.

"Stayne, what is this?" a deep but feminine voice asked.

"This, Majesty, is a girl I discovered wandering the roads. She bested me in hand to hand combat and I felt she could be useful to you," Stayne simpered, and Alessandra felt her lip curl against her will as she heard the forced sincerity and adoration in his voice.

The Queen hummed, cocking her head slightly to the left. There was nothing extraordinary about the girl, not that she could see, but then she had yet to see her face properly.

"Lift your head, girl," she ordered.

Alessandra did as asked, though she did not meet the woman's eye. The monarch stared at her, trying to find something that made her stand out. Her eyes raked down her body, an eyebrow quirking at the unusual and revealing clothes. She felt her eyes stopping at the girl's cleavage, which appeared to be the most unusual part of her, and the largest. Her breasts were practically straining against the fabric of her top, and she found the sight slightly exciting, though she wasn't sure why. As for the girl herself, she was pretty enough. Long wavy brown hair, oval shaped face accented by fairly high cheekbones with vivid green eyes that stood out against her pale complexion. She noted with pleasure that she wouldn't meet her gaze.

A tingle of something ran down her spine, something oddly akin to attraction, and she couldn't deny that she liked it. The girl was fairly tiny and petite, but if she had bested Stayne she deserved deeper consideration, not mention that unexpected allure.

"I believe a closer look is warranted."

Alessandra swallowed nervously as the Queen stood to view her more clearly. She diverted her eyes, keeping them riveted to the ground, and in doing so was only able to see the hem of the woman's skirts as she circled around her. The room was silent, save for the swish of the material and the sound of her own slightly labored breathing. Black boots came to a stop in front of her, and she soon found her head being lifted by a small hand on her chin. Slowly, nearly agonizingly so, her head lifted, her eyes rising slowly after to meet the deep brown ones of the Queen.

The woman's powdered face was inches from her own, her heart shaped lips pursed in thought. She took note that there was a calculated and guarded look there, but at the last second something sparked in chocolate orbs. Without a word, the monarch's hand slipped away from her face, and she turned and resumed her seat upon her throne. Alessandra held her breath, knowing the moment of truth was upon her.

"Someone fetch her some proper clothes!" the Queen yelled, shattering the silence, and Alessandra released her breath. "How can she be a proper member of the court without clothes?!"

Immediately the room burst into motion, courtiers scrambling left and right to appease the woman's demands. Alessandra watched them scatter, finding amusement in the way they skittered about like decapitated chickens. A smirk curled her lips which did not go unnoticed by the Queen.

"And just what are you gwinning at?" she snapped, angered at the thought that the girl may possibly be mocking her.

Alessandra snapped her head around instantly, bowing it in a show of submission and respect, something that pleased the tyrant.

"Nothing important, your Majesty. I was merely finding amusement in the way the other courtiers were scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off."

The Queen narrowed her eyes. While the girl's voice was light and pleasing to the ear, there was an odd accent that she couldn't place.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"America," the brunette answered, only serving to confuse her further.

"Where is this 'America'?"

Alessandra risked looking up.

"A place in the world above this one."

"So you are from Above then?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"And what is your name, dear girl?" the King asked, speaking for the first time and causing Alessandra to face him shock, not missing the venomous look the Queen shot him.

"Alessandra," she answered cautiously, "but I prefer to be called Aless."

"Absolutely not!" the Queen roared, her face tinting a light red. "I absolutely abhor that name. You shall be called Alessandra or nothing at all!"

"Yes, Majesty," Aless answered.

"Good girl. Now tell me of this America and why you are dressed so improperly."

Unable to help herself, Aless laughed.

"If you will permit me to approach?" Receiving a nod, she seated herself on the steps beneath the Queen's throne. "I come from not only a different world, but a different time. Where I live this," she gestured to her jeans and tank top, "is a normal outfit. In fact, I rarely wear anything more than what I am now, with the exception of a jacket."

"And what are those clothes called?"

"The top is called a tank top, I'm not sure why, and the pants are called jeans."

"And women are allowed to wear trousers?"

"All the time. In fact, most do. It's actually pretty rare to see a woman in a dress or skirt." She continued to tell the Queen of her home, both becoming quite engrossed in the conversation. "So this place is called Underland?"

"Yes, and only one other Abovelander has found it, that brat Alice." She looked at Alessandra with large brown eyes shining with innocence and slight bit of anger. "Do you know she caused such a ruckus that my courts weren't stable for a week? And she had the nerve to question my rule!"

"Well she is just a child, she knows nothing of running a kingdom," Aless responded, though inwardly agreed with the girl.

"Hmmm, I suppose," the Queen conceded, "but she was such a rude little thing!" A man approached, interrupting them. "What?! Can't you see I'm busy, idiot!"

"But M-Majesty, we have the materials for the young lady's dress," the man whimpered, obviously terrified.

Aless smirked at him. She didn't find the Queen the least bit frightening, though she supposed she probably should. The woman looked irritated, but waved a hand at him in dismissal and several bolts of fabric were brought forth. She noticed immediately they were all of darker color, and her eyes found the bolt with the darkest of blacks.

"Majesty, if I may?" The Queen nodded. "I'd much rather have an outfit similar to the one I'm wearing. I'm far more comfortable in this and I can move much more easily than I can if I wear a dress. And since it is my understanding that you wish to have me as a soldier, shouldn't I be able move about freely?"

"I hadn't considered that, Alessandra. Smart girl." The woman turned to the same man who had approached originally, and Aless realized he was the tailor. "You will make several outfits to her liking or I shall have your head!"

"Yes, Majesty, of course, Majesty!"

"Okay then. I'd like most of them in black, though I think one or two in this red would suit nicely as well, and perhaps a few in this dark blue. For the pants I'd prefer leather, or something close to it, and I suppose I _do_ need a few dresses in case of formal events, which should also be in black. I'll explain later how I'd like them to be cut."

The man's mouth hung open in shock, and Aless grinned. She had no problem giving commands, she was there to serve only the Queen.

"Of...of course, Miss. If you'd stand and allow me to gather your measurements," the man responded, shaking off his shock.

The Queen smirked, quite pleased that this one had a backbone.

Aless stood obediently still, grinning in amusement when her bust was measured and the man let out a small gasp. She knew she had large assets, but it always amused her when someone, particularly a man, came to the same conclusion. Her slim waist also fed the illusion and made them seem much larger than they were, but that often played to her advantage.

Measurements taken, the man made to scurry away.

"Oh, and sir?" Aless called, gaining his attention. "Make sure there's some form of support under the bust, and make it as tight as possible."

He gulped, nodding before exiting, and Aless was pleased to note the faint flushes on the men's faces, especially Stayne. It obviously had not gone over their heads that she did not intend to wear a bra or corset. The Queen herself had a slight blush when she again faced her, and she couldn't help the grin that covered her face.

Perhaps being stranded in this Underland wouldn't be so bad after all.


	4. Of Bastards and Beheadings

In no time at all Aless was practically best friends with the Queen. It hadn't been hard, as they were quite alike and the Queen was extremely lonely, and she respected the girl for not showing fear anytime she lost her temper. As such, it was no surprise that the rest of the court hated her, and the King himself shied away from her, not only because of her outgoing and fearless attitude but because of how close to and protective she was of the Queen. He knew that if he wasn't careful she would be the reason he lost his head.

* * *

Iracebeth, Aless soon found out, was a highly unpredictable creature. Her emotions spiraled out of control like a tornado, and her mood swings could put a pregnant woman to shame. She had to be very careful around her at first, but as she grew to know her and understand her she found herself becoming less guarded, more open. Iracebeth too began to feel more at ease around the strange young girl, perhaps more-so than she had ever felt around anyone. Perhaps that was why on a dark moonless night about a month after Aless had arrived, she found herself divulging all her insecurities regarding her marriage.

Alessandra, in the few short weeks spent in the Queen's presence, had come to realize several things. While the woman did indeed have a quick temper and was extremely self-centered and selfish, she was also incredibly insecure and lonely. She hid those emotions, locked them away and refused to acknowledge them, but Aless could see them bubbling beneath the surface and threatening to burst forth, especially when the King snubbed her or denied her attentions. It made her grow hostile toward the man, as the more time she spent with Iracebeth, the more she grew to like her and begin to feel protective over her.

Thus, she soon discovered through various sources that not only did the King have a tendency to allow his eye to wander, but that Iracebeth, deep down, felt unlovable because of it. This made her inexplicably angry. She wasn't sure if it was because the King was perhaps being unfaithful or if she just felt that everyone deserved to be loved, but whatever the reason she began to hate the King. She took to discreetly following him around the palace, taking joy in the way her movements added to his paranoia. Between her spying and his fear of Iracebeth he began to devolve into a stuttering, nervous mess. Aless grinned at this development, taking pleasure in the paling of his face whenever his gaze landed on her. She knew she only had to be patient, for with his nervousness it was only a matter of time before he slipped up.

Because of this, it was no surprise to her when, one night when the King was away, Iracebeth let slip her fears, her face paling as she did so and causing her to nearly drop her teacup.

"I think he's seeing Miwana," Iracebeth said, her eyes going wide as soon as the last sentence left her mouth.

Aless would have found the sight amusing if not for the fact that the woman had just revealed her deepest fear and her face was a mask of shock and terror. To her credit, she didn't flinch, her eyes didn't widen, she didn't gasp. She simply lowered the teacup she had been drinking from, not that she cared for the drink without liberal amounts of sugar. Iracebeth watched her every move, tense and ready to flee or execute her (though for the first time the thought of murder filled her with an unbearable nausea rather than glee). Green eyes met worried brown, and for the first time Aless put the pieces together completely.

"I think," she said, standing and rounding the Queen's chair, "that his highness doesn't realize what he's got." She hugged her from behind, pressing close against her and wrapping her arms around her chest loosely. For a tense minute, she wondered if she'd be thrown out and subsequently executed merely for trying to comfort the broken woman. Finally, the redhead leaned back into the embrace, allowing Aless to prop her head atop the fiery curls. "I think," she whispered, "that he's a damn fool and if I ever find proof that he's cheating I'll castrate him and make him eat it."

That got the reaction she was hoping for. The redhead burst into laughter, though if one looked they could see the sadness lingering in her eyes. Aless hurt for her, and wished more than anything she could take away her pain. She didn't have it in her heart to reveal to her that she had nearly everything she needed to fulfill her promise of bodily harm.

The King snuck back into the castle as quietly as possible, hoping like hell he wouldn't be caught. That girl, Alessandra, had seemingly been everywhere as of late, managing to catch him at the most inopportune of times. He slunk through the hallways, and when she was nowhere to be found he allowed himself to relax and let down his guard. He began to smirk as he thought of his late night conquests, and though he and Mirana hadn't actually slept together (yet, his mind supplied), they had done everything but. He subconsciously wiped at his lips and cheeks as he thought of her lips on him, teasing him with what could be.

"Oh Mirana," he groaned, images of her splayed and bare before him running through his mind.

Aless, from her hidden place in the shadows, narrowed her eyes. So he _had_ been cheating on Iracebeth, and with her own sister no less! Her heart spasmed as she realized what this meant, and how hurt the woman would be. Quickly, she dashed down the hall, keeping to the shadows and positioning herself just outside the royal bedchambers mere seconds before the King rounded the corner.

"Well, well, well," she said, keeping her voice low so as not to awaken anyone, most especially the Queen, "back from a little outing are we?"

The King jumped, his heart nearly stopping as he took in the silhouette leaned casually against the wall. Dammit, and he'd been so close, too.

"It's not what you think," he said, drawing himself up to his full height so as to look imposing, though a small voice in the back of his mind whispered it was futile. The girl was scared of no one except perhaps Iracebeth, and even that he wasn't certain of. "I merely had a late meeting with some advisors and guards as to the political situation in the west."

There, that sounded convincing, surely she'd believe it. The flash of emerald quickly let him know he was wrong.

"Let's try this again. Where have you been?" Aless asked, a threatening growl slipping into her tone.

The King knew now that he was in deep trouble. She obviously had overheard something somewhere about his less than pure intentions with his sister-in-law, and he knew he had to think very quickly to avoid being mauled.

"Fine, so I was out. But it was merely to scope the lands for the best place for a summer palace, you know how my love has been longing for one."

If possible, the brunette grew even angrier. Did he think she was so stupid as to believe his lies? How dare he? Furthermore, how dare he speak of Iracebeth with such tenderness when every move he made drove a stake further through her heart?

She was down the hall in seconds, her steel-like gaze pinning him to the floor.

"Shut the hell up. We both know you were doing no such thing. I know where you were, who you were with, and let me just say you're a bastard. She loves you, and this is how you reciprocate? By trying to fuck her sister? You disgust me."

Anger flared in the man's stomach. How dare she, a mere servant, a nobody, speak to him this way? He was a King, and would be treated like such, especially by a small girl.

"Hold your tongue, girl!" he snapped, his indignation masking his fear. "I am the King, and you will treat me with respect!"

He knew he had made a mistake the moment her eyes darkened.

"You are no king of mine!" she snarled, throwing a punch.

It connected squarely with his jaw, and he was certain he heard something pop before the immense pain set in, causing him to howl. She clamped her hand over his mouth, cutting off the sound, body tensing as she listened for any sign that someone ad been awakened or guards alerted. When none came she shoved him to the ground, stepping forward and grinding his crotch into the floor. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, the movement sending another bolt of pain through his jaw and adding to his misery. She leaned forward, using every ounce of her weight to cause agony. He began breathing heavily, colors blurring his darkening vision. She seemed to realize he was about to pass out, because suddenly her weight was gone and her face swam in front of his.

"Know this," she hissed, her nails abruptly digging into his chin, "if I did not care for her so deeply I would tell her of your little crush. This is your last chance. Break off this little fling with Mirana or so help me your life will become hell, what little will be left of it before you lose your head."

She let him go, and he sagged against the floor in relief, thanking the gods it was over. His last thought was not to underestimate her before her boot collided with his head and sent it into the wall, successfully knocking him out. She knew that, when he was found in the morning, he'd simply say he had been drunk or had tripped or some other ridiculous excuse, anything to keep his dignity (and head) intact. As she headed through the corridors to her own room she couldn't help but hope he'd show Iracebeth the love she deserved, though she knew in her heart that would never happen.

* * *

The day Iracebeth found out about her husband's infidelity was a day Aless would never forget. The morning seemed normal, the court bowing and scraping and groveling, a game of croquet, villagers begging for assistance with crops. She didn't know who had told her or how they'd found out, but she vowed that if she found them they wouldn't live another day.

It was the first time she'd seen the powerful woman cry. The anger came first of course, along with the stinging feeling of betrayal, and her face had turned the most impressive shade of red the girl had ever seen. The King, who'd been fairly close by, paled as her eyes locked on him. Aless, though she hadn't been aware of what had been said, figured it out fairly quickly and locked her own eyes on him, hatred and loathing flowing forth in waves.

The court went silent, as they knew someone was about to lose their head.

"Racie, I can explain-" he tried to say, but was cut off by her scream of rage.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

The court, stunned and out of the loop, didn't dare to move, but Aless, who knew exactly what was going on, marched up to the man and calmly slapped him. Hard. She then grabbed one of his arms to lead him away, and it was then he began to struggle. In one fluid motion his arm was bent behind his back at an extremely unpleasant angle, and she was hissing instructions to stay quiet into his ear.

"Unhand me, you filthy urchin! I am the King!" he shouted, refusing to be silent.

Aless glanced at Iracebeth and noticed the tears brimming in her eyes, and her resolve hardened to put him in his place by any means necessary. A loud snap rang throughout the room, followed quickly by a wail of agony. Using his pain as a distraction, Aless pushed him to kneel in front of the woman.

"Admit to the world what you've done, you son of a bitch," she growled, her voice ringing clear.

The other courtiers leaned in so as to hear better, still confused about what was going on.

"Never."

He screamed as she forced his broken arm further back, dislocating his shoulder as she did so and reducing him to whimpers. The court watched, horrified, as she effortlessly injured their King. They had never had reason to fear her before, but many were now suitably afraid.

"Do it."

Unwilling to risk any further disfiguration, the King gritted his teeth and began to speak.

"I have been unfaithful to her Majesty," he hissed.

Gasps and whispers rose around the room, silenced by Aless' harsh glare.

"And what do you deserve?" she asked, darkness slipping into her voice.

There was only one answer that would make her happy and save him from additional humiliation, so he gave it, though it nearly killed him to do so.

"Death."

* * *

His execution was held later that afternoon. It was against her normal procedure, as she preferred morning executions, but Iracebeth didn't think she could stand the sight of him one minute longer. Aless stood beside her as they led him to the block, her hand resting on the back of her chair in support. Tears stung her eyes as they had all day, but she held them back, determined not to show weakness in front of her subjects. What hurt the most though, was the knowledge that he didn't regret his actions. It was written on his face, beneath the terror and pain. He was proud of what he'd done, and that realization hurt more than the act itself.

As his head fell into the appointed basket, she felt something in her shatter, something irreparable. Her pain began to fade, fuel her inner anger, and mere minutes after the beheading she flew into a rage the likes of which the palace had never seen before. Even Aless made herself scarce in the hours that followed, unwilling to put herself in the line of fire though she desperately widshed to comfort her. Later, after she'd calmed down she wasn't sure how long she'd ranted and raged and screamed, she only knew that the only things that resulted from it were several ripped paintings and smashed ornaments.

Eventually, she did manage to cool down, and an overwhelming sense of emptiness spread through her. She was unlovable, unwanted, undesirable. Lonely. Broken,

Slowly, a tear made its way down her face, cutting a path through her makeup. It was followed by another and another until she couldn't see through them, and before she knew it she was sobbing. Her heart and soul stung, the wounds fresh and old alike burning with sorrow. And so she released her pain, the tears that had been threatening to overwhelm her all day finally succeeding.

Aless could have sworn she had marked a path in the rug from her pacing. She was worried about Iracebeth, desperately wanted to comfort her, but didn't want to intrude upon her mourning. A knock on her door drew her out of her thoughts and away from her path, and she answered it quickly, glad for the distraction. A nervous looking maid stood on the other side, her hands twisting over themselves and her eyes riveted to the ground.

"Yes?" Aless asked, managing not to take out her anxiety on the poor girl.

"It's the Queen, Ma'am," the girl said quietly. "She's terribly upset and frankly we're all of us frightened a great deal."

"What's she doing? Still screaming and throwing things?"

"No Miss, weeping." Aless froze for a split second, but her hesitation allowed the servant to see she was on the right track. "None of us have ever seen her Majesty so distressed. It's quite worrying. We'd hoped that, since you're her favorite, you might get to the bottom of what's causing this strange happening."

"What's causing-" Aless said in disbelief. Did they really think so little of the woman that they believed her to be incapable of emotions other than rage and jealousy? "She's just lost her husband, you twit!"

"But Miss, it's her own fault that he's dead."

The brunette's gaze turned cold.

"Yes, I suppose so. But then, you don't truly understand, do you?"

With that she swept past her and down the corridor in search of Iracebeth. Confused and feeling as though she'd been chastised, the maid called after her.

"She's in her bathing chamber!"

Aless showed no indication that she'd heard but silently sighed in relief.

She found her as the maid had said. Upon entering the royal suite she'd passed several servants, all with looks of stupefaction painted on their faces. '_Idiots,'_ she thought, '_the lot of them'_. She entered what she called the bathroom warily, unsure of what she would find. What she saw was not what she expected.

Iracebeth was sitting in her large bathtub, staring listlessly at her lap. Her face was bare, her eyes red and swollen, evidence she'd been crying. The tear tracks had long since dried, leaving streaks underneath her eyes and leaving the girl wondering just how long she'd been in there. It struck her then, staring at her with no makeup, her hair down, and naked, just how tiny the woman actually was. Compared to her head her body was downright petite, and Aless wouldn't have been surprised if she could encircle her waist with one arm easily. She looked so vulnerable and anguished, and her own soul throbbed in sympathy.

She treaded over to her loudly, lest she startle her, but she received no acknowledgement, not even when she lightly touched her shoulder.

"Iracebeth," she said, and at the sound of her name the woman burst into tears again.

Frowning, and wishing she'd taken care of the King when she'd had the chance, she gently coaxed the woman into facing her, pulling her to rest against her when she had done so. Her tears soaked her shoulder, and she even released a few of her own, allowing them to slip into the bright curls underneath her face. She shushed her, stroked her hair and allowed her to cry herself out. When the wails turned into quiet hiccups she moved to stroking her back, her mind idly noticing how silky her skin was. Finally, when all that could be heard were sniffles, she turned the woman back around and readjusted her. When she was settled, she drained the water and replaced it with fresh, courtesy of the hot spring that was located on the grounds.

"Come on, Iracebeth. Clean up and I'll wash your hair."

She spoke as if speaking to a child, though the woman did obey and began to wash herself. As promised she selected a shampoo from the various assortment and began lathering it into the red curls, noticing the woman relax as she did so. She had never realized until that moment not only how beautiful the redhead was, but also how long her hair was. It took her forever to wash it, and by the time she was rinsing out the soap the Queen was nearly asleep, exhausted from her tears and soothed by her ministrations.

Aless helped her out of the tub and dried her off, sliding her night dress over her head. They entered her room together, but when she saw Iracebeth's face fall as she gazed at the bed she knew she couldn't sleep there. She wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Come on, you can sleep with me tonight, and tomorrow we can burn the bed."

Iracebeth gave her a weak smile, the first she had given all day. Beaming back, Aless led the way to her own room, glaring at anyone they passed and daring them to speak. They made it to her chamber without incident, by which point the woman was barely conscious. Aless tucked her in, keeping an eye on her as she changed for bed herself and noting how she fought sleep until she slid in the bed behind her. She pulled her close, pressing herself against her back and feeling the last of her tension melt away.

"Goodnight Iracebeth."

"Goodnight Alessandra. Thank you," Iracebeth whispered, feeling something akin to love stir in her heart.

Her answer was a soft kiss pressed against her shoulder, and through it she felt more love than she had in her whole life. She sighed, her heart beginning to settle, and thought perhaps she was better off for having done what she did.


	5. Lying is Easy, Believing is Hard

In the week's following the King's execution Aless and Iracebeth grew impossibly closer. So close, that when subtle changes began appearing in court, she was the first to notice. And, unsurprisingly, a certain knave seemed to be the driving force behind them. Stayne was a weasel, she had always thought so, and now he was proving it by wooing the woman and slowly climbing up the social ladder from commander of the army to personal advisor, to, and perhaps the most infuriating, lover. She knew he didn't love her, didn't think he was capable of love at all actually, and the fact that he somehow managed to make Iracebeth believe he loved her drove her insane.

Aless thought the reason she fell for his ploys was because she was still emotionally unstable from the King's execution, and was looking for attention in any way she could find it. Unfortunately for everyone, platonic attention was not what she desired.

She only tried to intervene once, and after she'd ducked the various objects thrown at her and shaken off the quite impressive swearing and accusations, she'd let it be. The only reason she hadn't lost her head was because Iracebeth did love her, at least a little, and was reluctant to throw away their friendship over something as trivial as sex. The outburst hadn't, however, prevented her from loathing the relationship in private. She was careful not to speak her mind, lest the other members of court hear and run to the Queen in hopes of improving their image.

So, rather than risk angering the woman again and spend all her time sulking like a child, she began to make Stayne's life miserable.

* * *

There were few things in life Ilosovic Stayne truly hated. The Red Queen was one of them, and Aless the other. He'd thought he had it made when the King had signed his own death warrant and been executed, but no, the little brat had decided that she was going to try and ruin what little joy he had, which just so happened to be the additional power gained from being the Queen's lover. She constantly belittled him in front of the court, though she made sure to do it subtly so her Majesty wouldn't catch on. When she wasn't making jokes at his expense she was not so subtly threatening him and encouraging mutiny in the troops, which meant that not only did he have to work twice as hard to regain control, but Iracebeth was not pleased to learn he had failed to properly command her forces, resulting in at least one slap and several torturous minutes of ranting about his incompetence.

He was quickly losing not only his composure but his mind, and he knew if he didn't act quickly he would lose everything. So, he paid a few men to stage a very public coup d'etat, complete with threats and slurs against Iracebeth. Of course only Aless could be trusted to handle the delicate task of reigning the men in and squashing all other uprisings….at least, that's what he convinced the Queen of.

…

"But Majesty, surely you understand the importance of sending her on such a delicate mission?"

"No Stayne, I will not hear of it," Iracebeth said, attempting to turn away from him.

He merely rounded the back of her throne, once again meeting her eye.

"But she's perfect! No one will expect you to send a woman to do a man's job! She can have the whole thing taken care of quickly and quietly, not to mention that it will fuel respect among the public for employing a woman."

She faltered. On one hand she truly needed to take care of the small disturbance in the realm before it got out of hand, but on the other she'd rather not send Aless away into potential danger. Her eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to her.

"And why can't you go? Isn't that what I employ you for?" she asked.

Stayne paled slightly and knew he had to tread carefully and smartly. He plastered on a fake smile that he knew she would fall for before launching into what he hoped was a convincing argument.

"Majesty, Alessandra is the best fighter we have, at least in weaponless combat. They will never suspect her, and I'm sure she'd be more than happy to take care of it for you. Personally, I wouldn't dare to face her a second time. And further, Majesty, I also serve as your personal bodyguard, and I would feel most uncomfortable leaving you without protection while I track these men down." He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. "Besides love, she'll do anything for you."

He straightened with a smirk as he noticed her begin to think it over, He only prayed she would send the girl, thereby giving him time to fully gain her affection and perhaps the crown. Iracebeth was truly in a rough spot. She could either send her loyal advisor and protector to quell the rabble, or she could send the one person she was absolutely sure cared for her. It was truly one of the hardest decisions she'd had to make. She sighed, a weight settling on her shoulders.

"Send her," she whispered.

It was all Stayne could do not to grin like a maniac as he responded.

"Of course, Majesty," he replied with a slight bow,

He turned to carry out her orders, not missing the slight slump to her shoulders or the way she buried her face in her hands when she thought he was no longer watching. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her pain amusing.

* * *

Aless would rather eat nails than report to Stayne. Unfortunately, she had no choice as it was Iracebeth's orders and she _was _technically a member of the army, so she reported to him with as much dignity and respect as she could muster. When she faced him and noted the marked amusement and happiness in his demeanor she knew nothing good would come of the meeting.

"Alessandra," he began, glee practically oozing from his tone, "it has come to her Majesty's attention that there is a small rebellion in the southern regions. There have been threats made to her life, and she believes you to be the only one capable of subduing these men."

Aless' eyes narrowed as she was briefed. Something about this didn't quite add up, and his joyful tone was the complete opposite of what the situation called for. Nevertheless, if there truly were men questioning Iracebeth's reign and threatening her they must be stopped, and she would be more than happy to do it.

"Whereabout in the southern region were they last seen?" she asked.

Stayne smirked internally. It was going far better than he'd hoped.

"In one of the towns near Chevron, further south than Snud," he answered, fully aware he was sending her to the kingdom's southernmost border.

Aless raised an eyebrow.

"So far below? Surely being that far away we can send some knights to tend to the matter."

"No, her Majesty said it must be you."

The brunette sighed. She really didn't want to leave the older woman alone with the likes of Stayne, but she was sensing she had no choice in the matter. She only hoped she could complete the journey quickly and return home.

"Very well, I'll ready myself immediately." She paused to glare at him, and for a moment he worried she knew it was a trick. "Please tell the Queen I wish to speak with her before I go."

Stayne sneered at her retreating back, but not even her disrespect could disrupt his glee. He had done it! The brat would leave and be gone for months, hopefully forever if the two idiots he had hired could complete the job. Now to inform Iracebeth of her departure and revel in her pain.

* * *

Iracebeth was not in a good mood. First she had heard of an uprising, and then she'd been forced to send her closest friend to squash it, potentially risking her life. Then there was Stayne, who, rather than show Alessandra the respect she deserved as a departing warrior, indirectly and underhandedly mocked her and her abilities, angering her to the point of nearly asking for his head. She hadn't, her common sense butting in and reminding her she still needed an army commander and bodyguard while Alessandra was away. It didn't, however, stop her annoyance from mounting to the point of eruption.

She had screamed and shouted herself nearly mute, using words a lady of her station shouldn't ever think, much less speak. Stayne had looked suitably cowed by her outburst, not quite trembling but not far from it, and barely had the wherewithal to inform her that Alessandra wanted to speak with her before her departure. Guilt once again washed over her, putting out the ever present fire that drove the majority of her actions. She sank onto her throne, feeling more exhausted and worn than she could ever remember feeling in her entire life, including when she had been planning the uprising against her sister. That was how Aless found her, pale and exhausted with Stayne standing beside her, still looking shaken though his smugness was returning. She gave him a distasteful look before approaching the Queen.

She could tell she was upset, about what she didn't know, but she guessed it had something to do with her trip. She put on a smile for her, hiding her own sadness behind a mask. She walked up to her, taking her hand and gaining her attention.

"Iracebeth," she breathed, the tone carrying every emotion she couldn't speak.

"Alessandra," the older woman replied, eyes shining with grief and regret.

"Hey, don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

Iracebeth gave her a weak smile and reached out to cup her face.

"I know you will, I have every faith in you. Just promise me you'll be careful."

Stayne watched the interaction with barely concealed disgust, though he couldn't help the small snort he released as the Queen asked for a promise of safety. He was rewarded with a loaded glare from the young girl, though when Iracebeth tried to turn to face him she stopped her, distress warring with her anger.

"I promise," she said, genuine in her assurance.

It seemed to relax the woman, as she sat back and dropped her hands into her lap, though her fingers began to twitch as a signal of her distress. Aless saw and covered them with her own, giving her a level stare.

"When have I ever broken a promise to you?"

"Never," Iracebeth whispered, trying desperately to believe this was something as simple as an afternoon ride in the country.

Aless smiled. "Exactly," she said.

A paige stumbled in, gaining their attention. He nervously tried to right himself, trembling under the Queen's obviously irritated gaze. The longer he took trying to ready himself to speak the angrier the redhead grew. Sensing this, the younger brunette squeezed her hands gently, giving her a focusing point and cooling her temper.

"Y-your horse is r-ready, Lady Alessandra," the boy stuttered nervously.

She gave him a gentle smile, hoping to calm him.

"Thank you, you're dismissed."

He scrambled out with a hasty bow, plunging the room into heavy silence. Aless turned back to her friend, who, despite trying to hide it, was fighting back tears. She dropped to her knees in front of her, ignoring the dagger that pushed against her side.

"Hey, it's alright. I'll be back soon, and then this will all be forgotten. I want to do this, do you understand? You're not forcing me into anything. These people need to be taken care of before something escalates into an uncontrollable wave." Iracebeth stared, transfixed. Aless heard the impatient whinnying of her horse, and when they next locked eyes sadness was reflected from brown into green. "The horse is impatient to begin, I must go. I...I'll miss you."

She had nearly said something else, but she didn't, afraid of the woman's reaction even if what she wanted to say was meant platonically. She leaned forward and wrapped her in a hug, feeling slim arms encircle her shoulders and squeeze tightly. They held on for a good while, neither wanting to be the first to let go. Stayne at one point cleared his throat impatiently, and Aless just knew he was in for it after she left. When they finally let each other go they each had tears brimming in their eyes, though both refused to let them fall. They gave each other a watery smile before Aless stood and walked out of the throne room, head held high and determination oozing from every pore.

Iracebeth watched her go, dread settling in her stomach. It was silent until Stayne shifted, his uniform rustling and reminding her of her irritation with him. She turned to him, her face pinking, and he knew that the next several minutes would not be fun.

"How dare you," she growled lowly, and he was immediately put on edge. A raving Iracebeth he could deal with, a composed and quiet one was never predictable. "How dare you attempt to rush her departure?!" She whirled on him, springing from her throne. "I do not understand why you hate her so, but let me tell you-" her voice cracked, protesting against the abuse of being used so violently so frequently.

She started again, this time in a whisper, which was perhaps more frightening than her screaming.

"You will learn to show her respect or I will have your head as soon as she returns." It took everything he had to keep his lip from curling in disgust. "Get out of my sight."

He left quickly, hatred coloring his thoughts black, though all the while he was thinking of a way to get back into her good graces.

…

He hated playing the supportive lover, he really did, but he could think of no other way to make the Queen happy with him again. He went to her in the night, when he knew she would be the most vulnerable, and began launching his master plan. He'd had to beg to be allowed in of course, especially after how angry she'd been earlier, but her need for comfort won out. She was stressed out, worried, and exhausted, and perhaps the most vulnerable he'd ever seen her. He absolutely loved it.

"What's the matter, darling?" he cooed, false concern oozing from the words.

"I'm worried about Alessandra," she said, her eyes darting to her balcony and the view beyond.

"I'm sure she's alright. If there's anything she's proven in her time here it's that she can take care of herself."

Iracebeth hummed distractedly, obviously still deep in thought. He nearly growled in displeasure, but kept it in check so as not to ruin his progress. He just couldn't understand what made the brat so special. Other than a fantastic body what did she possess? He didn't think she was incredibly intelligent, and she was so much younger than the redhead. He'd have thought the Queen would have wanted someone closer to her own age to converse with, but apparently that wasn't the case. It baffled him, and he was glad he had sent her away when he did. He was no fool, he knew attraction between two people when he saw it, even if said people weren't yet aware of it.

"My love, she will be fine, I am sure of it."

She turned to face him, scrutiny and hope flashing in her eyes.

"You are?" she asked skeptically.

"As sure as I am that the Jabberwocky flies."

She smiled then, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing close against him. He grimaced above her head, but brought his arms around her shoulders, causing her to sigh quietly. Luckily for him it seemed as though it was one of the nights wherein Iracebeth merely wanted comfort and cuddles, so at least he wouldn't have to make love to her. He held her and stroked her back until she grew tired, only then leaving her to rest with kisses and reassurances of his love and Aless' safety.

* * *

Aless had only been gone a few days and already wanted to return home. Fortunately, in alignment with keeping her presence in the various towns a secret she did not have any other soldiers shadowing her, but that also meant she was left alone to her thoughts. Thoughts that became increasingly self explorative, and made her increasingly uncomfortable. She had never had reason to question her feelings for Iracebeth before, but the longer she spent away from the castle the more she longed for her presence, her voice, her scent….and that raised some questions. Did she love her platonically as she'd thought many times over? Or as something more?

She wasn't sure anymore, and the increased isolation forced her to think about it, whether she wanted to or not.

…

As the days turned into weeks Iracebeth grew not only restless but concerned. Why was Alessandra not home yet? Why hadn't there been any news? Stayne saw her predicament and pounced, filling her head with lies, half-truths, and truths spun and twisted beyond recognition.

"She's left permanently."

"She wouldn't!"

"She has."

"She never loved you, only your power!"

"That isn't true!"

"But Majesty, remember the king?"

Her fear slowly faded, shoved into the back of her mind as first depression and then anger took its place. How dare she turn her back on her?! The very woman who held the power to end her! How dare she use her for her own devices?! If she ever came back, she would lose her head.

Stayne watched with glee as his words wormed their way into Iracebeth's heart and mind, turning her against the person she loved most.

…

As Time wore on with no sign of finding the men whom she had been sent to deal with, Aless found herself missing her home more and more, especially a certain redhead. In fact, had it not been for the woman's safety she would have already returned, rebellion be damned, but her love simultaneously drove her and made her miserable. She had seen more of Underland in the past month than she had in the entirety of her stay, and though the scenery wasn't horrible she was more than ready to stop taking it in. As she readjusted her sore body for what had to be the billionth time since the beginning of her journey, she couldn't help but think that if she ever found the men who were causing her such discomfort they would die a slow painful death.

…

Two months. It had been two months since Alessandra had left, and though Stayne had told her things, words and phrases she had begun to believe, she still found herself longing for the girl. She had, after all, been the only one to show her affection in ages-that is, before Stayne had made his feelings known. She glanced back at him, currently asleep in her bed, exhausted after sex as usual. She pulled her dressing gown closer around her body, resuming staring out the balcony doors, feeling as though something was missing.

…

She had found them. It had taken nearly five months and numerous turnarounds and dead ends, but she had found them. She supposed the chase was wearing on them all, because they hadn't covered their tracks nearly as well at the last town, and she had been able to bribe one of the shop owners into disclosing some much needed information. She'd followed them, mere days behind, finally catching up at the last town within Iracebeth's rule. Why they had chosen Sloughsbuy as their final destination she didn't know, as it was incredibly small and impoverished, not to mention the stormy and foreboding mountains that separated Underland from the lands of Stygian. It didn't matter, she supposed, as she was trailing them no further.

The time away from the castle hadn't done her any good physically or mentally, as she had lost weight and was perhaps more angry and hostile than ever. She missed her Queen, and dammit she wasn't going to stand for the separation any longer! Exhausted though she was and eager to finish what she'd started, she stalked their movements, waiting until she was sure she could end them before she struck.

She caught them by surprise, jumping out from the shadows of the building they were using as a hideaway and landing behind them silently. Her hand found the hilt of the small dagger at her side, now poorly concealed due to her baggy clothes, but she stilled her hand, hoping not to have to use it. Smirking as she readied herself, she allowed the thought of home to fill her mind before she pounced, successfully knocking the larger of the two men to the ground.

"What the fuck?!" the other man shouted, rushing to pull her off.

Aless was ready, and instead of allowing herself to be captured lashed out with her left arm, feeling her tightly curled fist connect with a soft stomach. The man gasped as the breath was knocked out of him and hit his knees, giving her just enough time to slam the larger man's head face-first into the ground, not only knocking him out but breaking his nose and possibly cracking his cheek bone. She hopped off his back, gauging the second one and deciding it might be a little harder to take him out as she no longer had the element of surprise. He had just started to stand up, his eyes flashing, and she realized then that she might have a problem.

He was actually a bit bigger than she had first thought, not to mention well built and obviously heavier. Not taking into consideration her current underweight and exhausted state she figured that ordinarily it would be a decent fight, but this was not a normal situation. She was now at least fifteen pounds lighter and sore, her only true driving force her anger at having been sent on the mission in the first place. She soon learned he was also quicker than she would have imagined, as he shot toward her in a blur that barely gave her time to duck to the side.

"You little bitch!" he snapped as he whirled to face her. "I'll end you if it's the last thing I do!"

He pulled out a decent size dagger from a pouch at his side and lunged again, her surprise at the weapon stalling her reaction time. A searing pain shot up her arm where the blade caught her mid-jump, and she hissed, her other hand immediately shooting to cover it. The man looked pleased, and that fueled her rage.

"Didn't expect you to be this weak," he spat, staring at her as she clutched her wounded arm. "But then the Boss did say a few weeks of cat and mouse should have you subdued enough to capture."

"What?" Aless asked, confused. As far as she knew they had no other helpers, much less a higher up. "What boss?"

"Stayne of course," the man said, too conceited and blinded by his ego to notice the dangerous darkening of her eyes. "He hired us to stage that little scene in the square against her royal pain-in-the-ass, told us you'd come after us. Paid a pretty penny, he did."

Aless' wound was forgotten as pure red filled her gaze. She flung herself at him, landing a solid kick to his shin and subsequently bringing him down. He slashed at her again as he recovered, managing to split open her calf nearly to the bone, but she took no notice of the blood now flowing freely down her leg. She couldn't, in actuality, feel it, too blinded by her hate for not only the men in front of her but Stayne as well. The man felt a flash of fear shoot through him as she showed no reaction to the gash, and it was then he realized that Stayne had diluted not only the girl's determination, but her abilities.

He scrambled up, narrowly avoiding another kick, and set himself in a defensive position. She flew at him again, but wasn't careful enough to defend as well as attack. He saw an opening and took it, his fist connecting with her stomach and sending her to the floor. He came at her again with the dagger, but she managed to twist and knock it away at the last second, sending it skidding across the floor. A low moan alerted the two that the third member of the room was waking up.

Seeing his chance, the currently unhurt fighter threw a kick at Aless, propelling her into the opposite wall. He then helped his friend off the floor, wincing at the blood running down his face.

"What happened?" the man mumbled, cupping a hand over his nose.

"The little brat showed up, knocked you out cold. She's over there, already got her pretty good with me knife."

"Good, then we have a chance?"

He, unlike his friend, had heard tales of the young girl and her fighting ability, and by no means underestimated her.

"I hope so. She seems a bit dazed at the moment."

"Good, grab her and we can get on with it."

At the mention of being touched Aless attempted to push herself up, wincing as her back protested. Her movements gained their attention, and before she knew it she was being hauled up by her arms. She screamed as she felt her shoulder protest, bile rising to the back of her throat as what was most likely a break made itself known. Through her watering eyes she made out the man she had initially knocked out coming to stand in front of her.

"Before we end this little get together, I thought I'd pay you back for the broken nose."

He threw a solid punch, hitting her on the right side of her ribcage. She heard something crack and screamed as the pain engulfed her. He threw another punch, this one to the shoulder that was most likely broken. She felt the bone fragments grind together as what might have originally been a crack shattered apart, causing her to nearly pass out. He grinned, satisfaction glittering in his eyes.

Through the tears rapidly multiplying in her eyes she managed to see him picking something up off a nearby table. As he turned to face her she could make out a gun, though it was much older than the ones from her world. Her eyes widened as she recognized the style, realizing quickly that should the bullet miss the intended target it would cause her a great deal of pain by shattering bone and possibly lodging itself inside her. Apparently they had been prepared, because he didn't take the time to load it, merely cocked it, and the sound of the chamber clicking into place caused a cold sweat to break out across her skin.

"Why didn't you shoot her when you first saw her?" the first man asked.

"Well I didn't exactly have time to grab it with her coming at me now did I?" the second retorted.

The one wielding the weapon grunted, obviously unimpressed.

"I wish I could say this has been a pleasure, but there's no need to lie," he said, raising the pistol and taking aim.

Aless began to hyperventilate, knowing she needed an escape and fast. Without stopping to consider the results, she yanked her good arm free of her captor's grip, taking advantage of his surprise long enough to elbow him and yank her other arm free. Hissing at the immense pain the action caused, she darted out of the way of the gun, keeping herself in motion to ensure she was harder to hit. As she bounced and weaved around she pulled her own dagger out, knowing that with her wounds it was her only chance to make it out alive. Sizing them up for a second time, she lunged at the one who had held her captive, sending her dagger deep into his leg and dragging it upwards.

He howled in pain, instantly dropping to the floor without attempting to retaliate. A gunshot sounded, the bullet colliding with the wall to her left. She ducked, rolling out of the way of the second shot she knew was coming. Sure enough, mere seconds after she'd moved, blood sprayed as the man she'd just stabbed was shot. He slumped forward, dead or dying, she didn't really care. Her biggest challenge now would be getting the gun away from her attacker without getting shot. She began her process of dodging again, waiting until he had to reload and very narrowly avoiding bullets several times.

As soon as it became apparent he could wait no longer she dove for him, missing her actual target but still inflicting quite a sizeable wound. Blood began dripping to the floor from the cut to his shoulder, but he knew better than to try to cover it, more concerned with reloading the gun. Aless flew at him again, this time latching onto his back and wrapping her legs around his waist. He began thrashing, backing into the wall several times in an attempt to knock her off. She screamed as her already abused shoulder took more damage, feeling her other one bruising and nearly breaking with each hit. He reached back, digging his fingers into her sides and tearing them open. Glimpsing her chance, she locked her legs tighter around his midsection, bringing her dagger up and drawing it across his throat.

She dropped to the ground immediately after, retreating back a good few feet. She watched as his eyes went wide as he realized what she had done, his hand flying to his throat in a vain attempt to keep his blood from leaving his body. He staggered toward her, but she wasn't afraid, his eyes dimming even as his steps slowed and he collapsed, blood gushing as he attempted to breathe. She smiled grimly at the scene, glad it was finally over.

As he lay bleeding out she explored the little building, relieved at finding some spare clothes stashed in a small saddlebag. They were far too big for her, but were perfect for cleaning her knife and and shredding into bandages. As her adrenaline faded and she inspected herself she realized just how badly she'd been hurt, the many pains and aches returning with a vengeance. Her leg was the worst, the gash still oozing blood even after her exertion, and she felt a little light headed because of the blood loss. Her back stung, courtesy of the scrapes she had received from not only being kicked into the wall but slammed against it. Her shoulder she wouldn't even look at, a brief glimpse in a dirty window enough to tell her that the skin was rapidly purpling and lumpy with bone fragments. She fashioned a sling quickly, tying up her left arm and hoping that by the time she returned to the castle it wouldn't have started to mend.

She limped out to where she'd tied her horse, the animal whinnying in concern as it saw her. She smiled grimly, giving him a pat on the neck before searching her own saddlebags for a needle and thread. Truthfully, Aless would rather not have sewn herself up but, given the circumstances, and how long it would take her to return home, she'd rather not risk infection and most likely amputation by leaving it open. She rinsed the wound with water from her canteen, hissing as the blood washed away and allowed her a generous view of her muscles and tendons. She managed to thread the needle, her already labored breathing becoming ragged as she bit into a mouthful of her shirt before plunging it through her skin.

She screamed, the sensation still hurting despite paling in comparison to the wound itself. She shakily wove the needle and thread through her skin, managing a ragged but acceptable suture, though it was definitely not as tight as it should be and would undoubtedly leave a scar. She tied a strip of cloth around it and the cut on her arm, making sure no dirt could get into the wounds. Shaking with pain, she managed to mount her horse, slumping over his neck and whispering instructions to return home into his ear. He set off gingerly, unwilling to injure her further, but she spurred him into a gallop, wishing to return to Salazen Grum as quickly as possible.

* * *

Iracebeth had given up hope of Alessandra ever returning. It had been nearly six months since she had departed from the castle, and not once had she heard from her or about her. She supposed Stayne had been right all along, and felt her anger returning with each day that passed. Stayne was positively giddy, everything going according to plan. He supposed his hired men had found and killed the girl by now, thus permanently removing her from his hair. He was all-but King Consort, and within a few months he could see that happening, and after that, well, ridding himself of Iracebeth would be simple.

The shouting that drew their attention one rainy day was not, however, part of his plan.

* * *

It was the guards that found her. Aless wasn't entirely sure by that point where she was or when it was, only that she was in incredible pain and she was wet. She had given up guiding her horse days previous, her concentration marred to the point that directions blurred. She trusted the animal to at least take her somewhere safe if not back to the castle, but when she saw the blurred turrets in her vision tears leaked down her face, cutting through the sweat and dirt. At last, she was home.

Card soldiers, upon noticing the approaching horse, ventured out to meet it at the gate, a surprised shout going up as they made out the crumpled figure atop the the beast.

"Someone alert the Queen, her ladyship is back!"

Soldiers scattered to deliver the message, the remaining cards carefully helping her off her mount. They rushed her inside, scurrying past the Queen, who had heard of her return and wanted to see for herself if it was true. Stayne was right behind her, anger boiling in his veins. Iracebeth gasped as she caught a glimpse of Aless as the cards rushed her to her room, her anger fading as she saw the state she was in. She followed them almost in a trance, an unnameable emotion painting her face.

Stayne growled as the commotion ceased and he was left standing alone in the corridor. She was supposed to be dead! Well, he supposed, one couldn't expect two morons to succeed at such a delicate task.

But there was more than one way to skin a cat.


End file.
